Rosetta Stoned
by LordWindyKilt
Summary: DESCRIPTION UNAVAILABLE. TRIGGER WARNINGS EXTENSIVE.
1. Chapter 1

**S.E.N. LOG**

 **SUBJECT: AGENT MOTHMAN**

 **SENDER: ANONYMOUS, AGENT UNIDENTIFIED**

NOTE: THIS MESSAGE IS SUBJECT TO UNDERGO COMPLETE TERMINATION IN 120 SECONDS

Pardon the urgency, but I'm afraid that prolonged exposure of this message may result in an uncovering of not only Agent Mothman's true identity, but my own as well. I'm in no place to reveal my sources, so it's understandable if some of you respond with skepticism.

Agent Mothman was reported to a hospital this morning under strange circumstances. A nurse claims he appeared in an examination room with no awareness or memory of his admittance. His vitals were stable and there was no evidence of physical trauma, but his panicked breathing and closed-off, rigid body language indicated that something... pardon the informality... scared the living hell out of him.

I'm reporting this as an event of unexplained phenomenon, and I'm positive the rest of you will find out why I label it as such, soon enough. I was able to capture an audio recording of Agent Mothman's voice after he had calmed down and told the doctor he was ready to explain himself.

Expect a discreet publication of this audio recording within the next two hours, including a transcribed log.


	2. Chapter 2

**S.E.N. LOG**

 **SUBJECT: AGENT MOTHMAN, CONTINUED**

 **SENDER: ANONYMOUS, AGENT UNIDENTIFIED**

The following is the log I transcribed from the audio recording. The doctor's dialogue is abbreviated as 'DL', and Agent Mothman's as 'AM':

 **DL:** Well, let's say hello.

 **DL:** Good morning, I'm Dr. Lawson.

 **DL:** How are you today?

 **DL:** ... How ARE you today?

 **DL:** Look, son. You're in a safe place.

 **DL:** We want to help in whatever way we can, but you need to talk to us.

 **DL:** We can't help you otherwise.

 **DL:** What's happened?

 **AM:** ... Alright, then.

 **AM:** Picture this, if you will.

 **AM:** 10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes, in my "need to know" post, just outside of Area 51,

 **AM:** Contemplating the whole "chosen people" thing, when just then, a flaming stealth banana split the sky,

 **AM:** Like one would hope, but never really expect to see in a place like this,

 **AM:** Cutting right-angle donuts on a dime and stopping right at my boots, and me yelping, "Holy fucking shit."

 **AM:** Then the X-Files being, looking like some kind of blue-green Jackie Chan with Isabella Rossellini lips,

 **AM:** And breath that reeked of vanilla Nag Champa, did a slo-mo Matrix descent out of the butt-end of the banana vessel,

 **AM:** And it hovered above me and my gaping jaw, and all I could think was-

 **DL:** Slow down, son, you're talking so fast I can't understand a word you're saying.

 **AM:** I... I, uh...

 **DL:** Start over, from the beginning.

 **AM:** Forget it. You're not gonna believe a word I say.

 **DL:** The only way I can help you out here is if you tell me what happened and how you got here.

 **AM:** Okay...

 **DL:** Son?

 **AM:** Th-This morning...

 **AM:** Hey, did someone bring me here? How did I get here?

 **DL:** I don't-

 **AM:** I'm not telling you anything until you tell me what's going on! How did I get here!?

 **DL:** Calm down. We're trying to help you.

 **DL:** You said something about Area 51, right? What were you doing out there?

 **AM:** I... I can't understand you...

 **AM:** You sound like... fucking... Charlie Brown's parents...

 **(I was unable to transcribe the next four minutes of audio due to static interference.)**

 **AM:** Fuck... I feel like I can't breathe, please don't leave me alone in here...

 **AM:** You believe me... don't you?

 **AM:** Please, please believe me.

 **AM:** This wasn't all in my head.

 **(At this point, I heard the nurse approaching from around the corner and had to hide my recording device. The rest of the captured audio is muffled and inaudible.)**

It's unknown to me whether Agent Mothman has been released from the hospital. All agents, please stand by until further notice. I'll disclose more information once it's available to me.


	3. Chapter 3

Hospital Diary: Entry One

It seems pretty silly to write something like this, but I guess it doesn't matter much since these pages will probably be thrown into the **(FIRE AND DESTROYED BY THE MEN IN BLACK)** trash soon enough.

My name is Dib Membrane. I'm 22 years old. I recently went on a roadtrip to Las Vegas with **(THE ALIEN)** my classmate, Zim. We went out here to **(INVESTIGATE AREA 51)** take some photos of the desert for a school project.

Zim **(DISAPPEARED ALONG THE WAY)** decided to stay back at the hotel while I went out at midnight to see if I could photograph **(AN UNIDENTIFIED OBJECT)** the desert in night-vision. I sat out there by my motorcycle for almost two hours. Admittedly, I was under the influence of ecstasy, the only thing that could help me **(KEEP MY COURAGE TO STAY OUT BY THAT FIELD ALONE IN THE DARK)** stand spending so much time with Zim, whom I kind of hate. It got boring out there, with nothing but a box of donuts and my camera, so I took **(A HIT OF DMT)** out my phone to check in on Zim, who didn't answer.

 **(I STARTED THINKING ABOUT ALL THOSE SCI-FI MOVIES I'D SEEN THAT TALKED ABOUT "THE CHOSEN ONES" WHEN JUST THEN, SOME KIND OF BANANA-SHAPED THING CAME RIGHT OUT OF THE SKY, DID SOME CRAZY STUNTS, AND PARKED RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME, SPITTING OUT SOME KIND OF FUCKING BLUE-SKINNED EXTRATERRESTRIAL THAT JUMPED ON ME AND SPOKE TO ME. HE TOLD ME I WAS THE CHOSEN ONE.)**

 **(ME. THE CHOSEN ONE. AND I DIDN'T EVEN GRADUATE FROM FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL.)**

 **(AND THEN HE FLOATED AWAY, BUT THE CRAZY SHIT DIDN'T END THERE.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Patient Name:** Unknown

 **Doctor:** Charles Lawson

 **Patient Remarks:**

Nurse Jones failed to report to me that he had several cuts all over his body, claiming there were no signs of physical trauma. Regarding the patient's mental state, he has yet to be evaluated until I get in touch with his therapist. No further information can be disclosed until patient is positively ID'd.


	5. Chapter 5

_Ring... ring..._

"This is the office of Dean Dwicky?"

"Hi, this is Nurse Jones at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center. I have a patient here under the name of Dib Membrane, who I understand has been under your treatment for the past four years?"

"... Yes, that's correct. What happened?"

"He arrived here yesterday morning under the care of our Doctor Lawson. We were hoping you could fax us a copy of his patient file."

"..."

"Sir?"

"Yes, absolutely. What's your fax number?"

"***-***-****"

"Thanks... I'll try to have this out to you as soon as possible. Is there any way you could tell me if he's going to be alright?"

"We're still trying to figure that out, sir. We need his patient file first. Thank you for your time."

 _Click._

−·−− −−− ··−

·− ·−· ·

−··· · ·· −· −−·

·−− ·− − −·−· ···· · −··

−− ·−·

−·· ·−− ·· −·−· −·− −·−−

 _Click._


	6. Chapter 6

Hospital Notes: Entry Three

My first note was manipulated and the second one was destroyed so a lot of important information on my experience two days ago has been excluded.

I'm giving all my notes to my therapist now so they can't be fucked with anymore, but I wonder if he'll give these up if anyone asks for them. I've known him to break my trust before.

I need to know where Zim is and why he disappeared before I was... abducted?

He knows now that the Tallest don't care about him so he no longer has any good reason to destroy Earth. That's not really enough to trust him, but it's the best I've got. I've been living with him for the past three years, and the worst he's done since was wake me up at four in the morning to listen to this "amazing song" he found on the internet.

But I'm worried. I'm worried that Zim may have had something to do with my abduction, and if he didn't, then for once, I'm worried for him.

Zim's told me about alien races far more hostile than the Irkens, and while I wouldn't consider the ones I've encountered to be malicious toward humans, I have no way of knowing what their intentions would be towards an exiled Irken like Zim.

And it's very suspicious to me that Zim disappeared just hours before my experience.

Either he's finally picking himself back up towards my demise and he had a hand in this, or something far more sinister is happening, and if it's what I think it is, I don't fucking care anymore.

After what's happened to me, or what I think has happened to me, I just want to leave Earth and all the bullshit it's ever given me.


	7. Chapter 7

**S.E.N. LOG**

 **SUBJECT: AGENT MOTHMAN**

 **SENDER: ANONYMOUS, AGENT UNIDENTIFIED**

NOTE: THIS MESSAGE IS SUBJECT TO UNDERGO COMPLETE TERMINATION IN 120 SECONDS

Again with the urgency, for a good reason. This is the same agent who contacted you before. I have more information.

The hospital that Agent Mothman was admitted to is a smalltown hospital, so it's highly possible that reporters will hover for whatever story they can get in such a desolate area. It's important that I make it clear, that we will most definitely know who Agent Mothman is if this event is given any media attention. I want to be sure that that will not lead to the downfall of the Swollen Eyeball Network. I would like to strongly advise a conference regarding the matter, held at the earliest convenience.

I've been able to investigate this event firsthand, having been given the assignment to tail Agent Mothman for the past month, as we've all had our suspicions about him. I was able to fake an injury today and be admitted into the same hospital, though I'll most likely be let go tomorrow after these notably lazy smalltown doctors decide it's pointless to keep me here.

I've brought with me a small camera and an audio recording device. Keeping discretion in mind, and noting the hyper-vigilance of Agent Mothman, I have not been able to capture any photos or videos. Any audio recordings deemed "interesting" will be transcribed and sent out to all of you en-masse as they come.

Thank you for your patience and your attention.


	8. Chapter 8

**S.E.N. LOG**

 **SUBJECT: AGENT MOTHMAN, CONTINUED**

 **SENDER: ANONYMOUS, AGENT UNIDENTIFIED**

The following is the log I transcribed from an audio recording I captured late this morning. I couldn't step in until the middle of the conversation, but it's between Agent Mothman and his therapist (?), abbreviated to 'DD':

DD: I got a weird phone call the other day, after the hospital called me.

AM: Yeah?

DD: It was probably just a prank, but it was in morse code. It said 'you are being watched, mr dwicky'. Wooo, spooky!

AM: I honestly don't know if you should be laughing about that or not. Some really fucked up things have happened in the past few days. I feel like I'm stuck in a goddamn M. Night Shyamalan movie while on acid and peyote. Like, combined. You should see what I wrote in my notebook today, haha, don't remember any of that.

DD: So, you think it could be someone really seriously messing with me?

AM: After what I've seen? Yeah. Someone's dropping you a real winner of an Art Bell ring, only it's not an ass-load of a hoax this time.

DD: Right... Tell me what you saw?

AM: I thought nurse snaggle-tooth back there already told you.

DD: Nope.

AM: You know? I don't really feel like-

DD: Humor me.

AM: I was on drugs.

DD: Hmm.

AM: What?

DD: You work so hard to convince people that there are aliens out there, but now you're trying to dismiss what you saw as a hallucination?

AM: I mean, some of it could've been. Maybe they weren't aliens. Maybe they were some bikers trying to rape me or something.

DD: Hold up.

AM: Sorry. Too heavy?

DD: No, I mean, why do you think that's what could've happened?

AM: Because I feel funny. You know, the kind of funny you might feel after someone's spiked you with Ketamine and put things inside of you? Pulp Fiction gimp style, ball-gag included, probably, with this lock I got on my jaw right now? That also might explain all these cuts on me I can't remember getting. Whoever they were, they were into some shit.

DD: Doctor Lawson said there was no evidence that pointed to anything like that. He found bruises around your skull, but nowhere else. Also, I guarantee that pain in your jaw is from how fast you've been talking. What did they give you?

AM: Hell, you're talking at Sonic the Fuck-all-hog speed, too! Fuck what they put in this thing! I lost six hours of my life and I still feel like my head's in a blender! It doesn't fucking matter what happened to me, I'm fucking scared and my entire body hurts!

DD: Would you like to talk to your family?

AM: No. I just want to talk to you. You're the only person who's never hurt me. Badly, anyway.

DD: Okay... um. Your notes said that Zim was with you, right?

AM: Yeah. We were staying near the desert for a... uh... school project, right? We, uh, go to the same college. I went to take some pictures of the desert while he stayed at the hotel. I thought I saw something, so I tried to call him, but he never answered. He always answers his phone, no matter what, so it could only mean he disappeared.

DD: How would you describe your relationship with Zim?

AM: Huh? Say that again?

DD: Zim. What's your relationship with him.

AM: Uh... I don't know? That whole dilemma makes just as much sense as you're making right now!

DD: Not enemies?

AM: Not exactly...

DD: Friends?

AM: No...

DD: You okay?

AM: Not at all. My head's been hurting ever since I turned up here, and I can't get my thought's straight. Putting my head back together is like trying to work out one of those blank white puzzles. I feel like I can't even make coherent sentences, and anytime someone talks to me, it just sounds muffled and weird, like with the parents from Peanuts? I think someone took a stab at my brain with an icepick or something.

DD: I thought you said you were on drugs.

AM: Huh? No? I mean, I had some X in my system a few days ago, but I didn't... You know what it is about you shrinks!? Every one of you that I've been to, you don't even fucking listen! You pull up random shit out of nowhere that has nothing to do with what I've talked about! I never said I was on drugs!

DD: Let's take a break. You did good, though. We've... practiced for later.

AM: Yeah, let's! Fucking get your patient files back in order. If you actually cared about my mental health, you wouldn't get me mixed up with other screw-ups! Asshole.

DD: Hey, nurse, could you maybe **(inaudible)**

 **(inaudible)**

DD: I just think he needs to calm down. Our whole conversation was just absolutely **(inaudible)** run a tox screen or give **(inaudible)** and I'm just worried that **(inaudible)** he's okay? He's not usually like this at all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Patient Name:** Dib Membrane

 **Doctor:** Dr. Lawson

 **Patient Remarks:**

Patient shows positive signs of confusion and psychosis. Upon confirming patient files with his therapist, it's been confirmed that the patient has become delusional as a result of the events prior to his admission. Nurse Jones will be administering the appropriate dosage of Klonopin to keep him calm until he is able to come down on his own. It's my professional opinion that the patient has endured recent trauma apart from how he may have received the wounds covering his body. Tox screen does show traces of MDMA, most likely ingested in the past 72 hours, though nothing that would suggest the patient has been having hallucinations, contrary to the suggestion of his therapist. Nurse Jones and I do not see a point in keeping him here for more than two days unless there is a negative change in his behavior or no improvement according to psychoanalysis.

Addendum: Patient had an unfortunate episode within the past hour and had to be sedated. Self-damage done to the back of his neck, will need stitches. Patient claims a small metal object was self-extracted from his neck, though no such object or trace of the object was found.


	10. Chapter 10

Hospital Notes: Entry Four

It's not the Deadhead Chemistry. They've found me. They still know where I am. And I know how. They put something in me. Just under my skin. At the base of my spine. In my neck. It's gone now. They've taken it. But they still know where I am. I'm out of my head. I'm out of my head. I'm out of my

ca n't remember what

typical


	11. Chapter 11

**S.E.N. LOG  
SUBJECT: AGENT MOTHMAN, CONTINUED  
SENDER: ANONYMOUS, AGENT UNIDENTIFIED**

As usual:

AM: Doesn't your wife or girlfriend have a problem with you being all the way out here just for me?

DD: I'm gay and single. It's also part of my job to subdue patients during times of trauma.

AM: But, usually, the most therapists will do off the clock is call your family members to let them know you've been admitted to a psychiatric facility, or harass you when they haven't been payed.

DD: Most therapists also don't have the same patient for ten years.

AM: Right... Hey, Dean?

DD: Yeah.

AM: Why do you think this shit happened to me?

DD: We still haven't really established what exactly did happen.

AM: You're telling me.

DD: You seem calmer now.

AM: It feels more like I'm asleep. Don't know if it's the drugs they gave me, or if I'm just done.

DD: Done as in, you've given up?

AM: Yeah. I'm thinking, why is my life such a sinkhole? Why does bad shit keep happening to me when I don't know how to deal with it? Why is it that, these things I saw, these things that targeted me and put something in my neck and made me crazier than I already am, why me? Why does the devil want to fuck me in the back of his car so bad?

DD: (name omitted), do you know what the negativity bias is?

AM: What.

DD: It's the notion that human beings, at least in Western culture, acknowledge the bad things that happen to them as a much greater force with a much bigger impact than the good things. But personally, I think, everyone experiences an equal balance of both. You could think of your suffering as a window to see what's still meaningful in your life. Multiple religions have this belief, and it's for a reason.

AM: So you think I'm "the chosen one" to get shit inserted under my skin because some higher power thinks I need to appreciate the good times more? Is that what all of this is?

DD: This thing that happened to you-

AM: Can you please, even if you don't believe, just pretend for one minute that what I'm saying actually happened?

DD: I hate to say this, but you've told me so many different stories now that I'm not sure which one I'm even supposed to pretend is true.

AM: I was abducted. Flat out abducted. They put their revolutionary Steve Jobs prototype in my neck, and then they snapped their long blue fingers to make it disappear just when I had the chance to get it out and use it as evidence. I was chosen for some kind of L. Ron Hubbard prophet quest that I don't want to have shit to do with. It's some X-Files bullshit. All you need to know. End of story.

DD: So you still think it was aliens.

AM: Yeah. I know it was. I promise I'm not bullshitting this time, there were no bikers or whatever and I wasn't on any hallucinogens so...

DD: (name omitted)?

AM: Are we just... never going to talk about when _you_ got abducted ten years ago?

DD: What?

AM: You believe now, don't you?

 **(distortion made the rest of the audio impossible to transcribe)**


End file.
